


where ever you're going (i'm going your way)

by PrinceDrew



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Connor's An Actor, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Evan isn't really anything, Gen, In a way, Late Night Conversations, Melancholy, Smoking, Stargazing, can be seen either platonically or romantically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 21:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16292474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceDrew/pseuds/PrinceDrew
Summary: The city was quiet in a way it often was not. Night hung in the air like a comforting blanket, a light breeze caressing anyone it came across, dancing around apartment buildings like nothing mattered. From a distance, one would call the city lights pretty.The city was silent, save for two balconies downtown, where two friends stood opposite each other, high above everyone else, higher than even the street lamps below.In truth, he preferred Connor like this, isolated on the balcony, alone and no one but Evan’s. It was safer here, with only the two of them. Much safer.





	where ever you're going (i'm going your way)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Audrey Hepburn's Moon River from Breakfast at Tiffany's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uirBWk-qd9A), due to an ask from tumblr user dark-khococat. Just a short and simple scene, really.
> 
> Connor's opening words are taken from the opening monologue of The Glass Menagerie by Tenessee Williams; I have no ownership over those words.

The city was quiet in a way it often was not. Night hung in the air like a comforting blanket, a light breeze caressing anyone it came across, dancing around apartment buildings like nothing mattered. From a distance, one would call the city lights pretty.

The city was silent, save for two balconies downtown, where two friends stood opposite each other, high above everyone else, higher than even the street lamps below. 

“Yes! I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve, but I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion.”

The taller friend paused, looking up from his script to glance across the gap at his companion. His stance changed, shoulders slumping down, all theatricality gone and vanished from his body.

“You don’t think it’s too over the top, Ev?” he asked. “Like, it’s obviously, y’know, meant to be but - but it’s just - do you think I’m getting the balance right?”

Evan nodded, then he shook his head, then he shrugged and nodded at the same time.

“Seems, ah, seems just fine to me,” he said. “Maybe a little - a little less gesturing? It doesn’t - doesn’t really suit it, I d-don’t think.”

Connor groaned, and let his script drop to the balcony floor, choosing instead to lean forward and rest his arms on his railing, face hidden in his hands.

“The director told me to gesture _more_ ,” he muttered. “He wants me to do that disappearing scarf trick. Do I look like someone who can do magic tricks?”

Evan just laughed, and shook his head fondly at his neighbour.

Well. They weren’t quite neighbours, not in the traditional sense. Rather, Evan’s building was next to Connor’s building, and their balconies faced each other, a weird quirk of architecture making theirs the only ones to do so, with the distance between them tantalizing close, as though it would be easy for either one of them to leap across to the other.

They hadn’t always been close. At first, Evan only went to his balcony to tend to his plants, which crowded the small area like it was a small forest hidden in the urban place, and Connor only went to his balcony, furnished with nothing more than an ashtray and chair, in order to rehearse lines. 

It had been intimidating for Evan at first, hearing his not-quite-neighbour recite Mercutio’s Queen Mab speech over and over again, or screaming down the phone at people who were apparently his parents, or watching him smoke and drink on evening, his back pressed against the railings as he blew out smoke far too often to be healthy, but Evan never exactly left his apartment, and Connor never exactly left his apartment, and sometimes Evan would catch snippets of Connor singing, old songs like Moon River, and he had such a nice voice and so -

And so they started talking.

Small things at first, like how their days had been, or what they had made for dinner, until it wasn’t unusual for them to spend their nights together, Connor making them both a cup of tea and they would just talk, late into the night, and the rest was history.

(Or rather, they had started talking because partway through an argument with his sister over the phone, Connor had thrown a lamp at Evan’s balcony doors, and given that they were glass, they had cracked rather magnificently upon contact. Connor offered to pay for repairs, and had recognised Evan’s Little Shop of Horrors shirt. But that had been almost a year ago now, so it truly was history.)

“You coming to see me this time?” Connor asked him, now abandoning his lines in favour of smoking, lighting up a cigarette and lifting it to his lips, lighter still in his other hand. “I can get you front row tickets if you want. Opening night, if I charm the box office ladies enough.”

Evan shook his head yet again, but he smiled at Connor, softly and gently.

“Why would I do that when I get a private performance every night?” he asked, because that was easier, in a sense, than the truth.

“Glass Menagerie isn’t a solo show,” Connor told him, drawing a drag from his cigarette. “There’s other actors in it. Good ones as well. You don’t quite get the full effect with me on my balcony by myself. I’m not even in my costume.”

Evan just shrugged at that, choosing to look at one of his plants rather than Connor, who was humming now, a song that Evan hadn’t quite heard before, and couldn’t quite place.

In truth, he preferred Connor like this, isolated on the balcony, alone and no one but Evan’s. A theatre full of people would change the atmosphere between them, that Evan knew. Connor was different around others - more than one overheard argument proved that. Evan was different around others.

It was safer here, with only the two of them. Much safer.

“Full moon tonight,” Connor murmured, his head tilted backwards, eyes up, his cigarette still in his hands. “It’s a pity we can’t see the stars here.”

“It is,” Evan agreed, following Connor’s gaze upwards. “It - it sort of makes me miss my hometown. You could, um, you could see so many stars during winter there.”

They were quiet a moment. 

“Why did you leave?” Connor asked quietly, still gazing at the moon. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Evan hummed, his face flushed and burning.

“There just wasn’t anything for me there,” he said, and Connor nodded, lifting his cigarette to his lips and drawing in a drag, before breathing it all out.

“It feels like that for me here, sometimes,” he said. “I feel like any day now something better will come along, but it never does. I’m here because I’m here, not because I want to be. The world keeps on moving, and I’m not chasing after it.”

And then he stopped, turning now to face Evan, and his face was soft now, and he was smiling in a way Evan so rarely saw.

“But I know that’s not true,” he said, “because I only need to look out of my balcony to see you there. And you’re nearly always there.”

All the breath left Evan, and he was just stood there, staring, something warm and nice and new growing inside of him.

“Oh,” he said. “Oh.”

And then Evan smiled, and then Connor laughed, kindly, like he wanted to do nothing else in the world. He stopped after a moment or so, but he kept smiling, just smiling at Evan.

“Come see me perform?” he asked, and Evan could only nod and smile in return.

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Anyway in the original Breakfast at Tiffany's Holly Golightly was bi and the main character was gay so we need to remake a more faithful adaption but keep in Moon River ASAP.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this fic. If you have any questions, like the fic, have feedback or noticed any mistakes, post in the comments below, or at my tumblr [here](http://princedrewwrites.tumblr.com). I'm getting better at using it, I swear! Or, if you just liked the fic and don't want to say anything, just leave a kudos. There's no pressure either way.


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